


we're gonna keep you safe, okay?

by jesse (accio_belle)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aubrey Little Has Emotions, Duck is a Supportive Friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grieving Aubrey Little, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Nightmares, i reference my own fic, thank u friendzone for the love and support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accio_belle/pseuds/jesse
Summary: Duck Newton prides himself on three things: one, his top secret pancake recipe known only to himself and Indy. Two, his knowledge of the lyrics to every Dolly Parton song ever released. Three, his fucked-up sleeping schedule. He’s especially proud of this third fact on nights like these, when he’s the only one awake, and is thus the first person to hear Aubrey shrieking at the top of her lungs.(or: duck newton is a very good friend.)
Relationships: Aubrey Little & Duck Newton, Dani/Aubrey Little (Mentioned), Indrid Cold/Duck Newton (mentioned)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 101





	we're gonna keep you safe, okay?

**Author's Note:**

> (note: aubrey’s nightmare and panic attack is based vaguely on my own experiences, a bit of research, and a lot of videos about psychiatric service dogs. i don’t get panic attacks a whole lot, and i don’t have a service dog of my own yet, so please forgive me if i’ve written this badly.)

Duck Newton prides himself on three things: one, his top secret pancake recipe known only to himself and Indy. Two, his knowledge of the lyrics to every Dolly Parton song ever released. Three, his fucked-up sleeping schedule. He’s especially proud of this third fact on nights like these, when he’s still up at two in the goddamn morning waxing poetic about Indy’s eyes, and is thus the first person to hear Aubrey shrieking at the top of her lungs.

Duck launches out of bed before the first scream has even finished, socked feet sliding on the hardwood floor. He skids down the hall and throws open the door to Aubrey’s room, scanning for any signs of danger. The light flooding in from the hallway illuminates her room, which looks the same as it’s always been: band posters stuck to the wall, clothes scattered all over the floor, empty med bottles on her dresser that she’ll refill _“tomorrow, Duck, I promise I won’t forget!”_ , one of Dani’s shirts draped over the back of Aubrey’s desk chair, window open and curtains ruffling in the breeze. Aubrey is thrashing around in her bed, eyes open and unseeing. The sight never fails to worry him, no matter how many times he’s seen it. Dani’s not there to comfort her girlfriend; Duck recalls her saying something about spending the week in Sylvain with some friends, leaving Aubrey to bunk at the Lodge while Dani was away. Kelly, the World’s Best Therapy Dog Slash Supreme Tennis Ball Thief, is laying across her legs, paws on her stomach. He looks to Duck when he appears in the doorway but makes no move to leave. Best fuckin’ dog in the world, Duck’s sure of it.

“Aubrey!” Duck calls from the doorway. “C’mon girl, up and at ‘em! ‘S just a dream!”

He’s aware of other doors opening now, of Mama and Barclay and Minerva standing worried behind him, but none of them complain. The residents of the lodge are all used to the occasional nighttime interruption. And someone in Aubrey’s position, who has seen what could have been the end of two worlds, who is nearly single-handedly rebuilding an entire realm, who is still full of a torrent of emotions about Ned, would probably find her experience pretty damn hard to talk about with a therapist. Duck remembers how she avoided Pigeon at Ned’s burial, clinging to Dani’s hand like it was a life ring and she was alone in the ocean. He and Indy wanted to talk to her after the ceremony, check in on how she was doing, but the girls had disappeared back to Sylvain the moment the plaque was nailed to the tree. No word from her. The next time Duck saw them, for Jake’s birthday two months later, Aubrey had Kelly and a smile on her face. She looked happier. Duck thought it best not to bring up what had happened, and instead watched her goof around with her friends like she used to.

Aubrey groans from deep in her chest, rising in pitch until it’s another scream. Her flailing arm knocks a half-filled water bottle off her nightstand and the plastic bottle rolls towards Duck. He picks it up and holds it behind him; someone, he doesn’t know who, takes it from his hands.

“‘M gonna come in, Aubrey, alright? Just gonna sit with you for a bit.”

He walks quietly over to her bedside and kneels on the carpet, a safe distance away in case she starts swinging her arms again. Even with worry clouding his senses, Duck remembers what to do for Aubrey’s nightmares. He recalls the goofy five-step brochure she had made for him after hours of research with Dani, the one he still keeps in his nightstand drawer just in case.

Step One: Don’t touch her at all. It’s more likely to hurt her than help her, especially if it’s a particularly bad nightmare. Kelly’s trained to help; he knows exactly what to do.

Step Two: No sudden bright lights until she’s through the worst of it. They freak her out.

Step Three: She’ll probably be hyperventilating, so help her regulate her breathing back to normal.

Step Four: Walk her through the 5-4-3-2-1 method; if she can point out the things around her, it’ll help ground her back to reality.

Step Five: Talk to her. Hearing a familiar voice helps calm her down more than being left alone. Also, saying her name helps remind her she’s a real person in a real world.

Aubrey’s body gives one massive final convulsion and her eyes snap open. She scrambles to a sitting position, hands clutching her throat, breathing hard and fast. Kelly sits at attention, nosing at her hands.

_“Can’tseecan’tseecan’tseecan’tsee–”_ Aubrey’s voice comes out panicked, choked.

“Hold on, lemme get a light–”

Duck fumbles for the lamp switch and finally manages to flip it on, keeping the light dim enough to not scare the girl but bright enough to see her clearly. Parts of Aubrey’s tank top are damp with sweat. She’s rubbing at her arms, staring wide-eyed at the wall past Duck’s head. He watches, helpless, as Kelly uses his paws to tap at Aubrey’s hands. The dog seems to get through to her a bit, and she starts to rub his fur instead. Her breaths are coming way too fast, wheezing in and out of her lungs as she keeps staring straight ahead.

“Breathe, Aubrey, c’mon,” Duck says, keeping his voice calm and even. “In ‘n out, just like me.”

Duck forces himself to take deep breaths, inhaling through his nose and exhaling out his mouth. Aubrey keeps making those awful fast wheezing sounds, but Duck keeps at it, and soon her breathing evens out a little more. The tears keep rolling down her flushed cheeks, dripping off her chin and making little dark spots on the sheets. Kelly leans against her, bumping his muzzle against her face and licking the tears from her skin.

“‘M gonna touch your right hand now, okay?”

A nod that isn’t really a nod but more of a vague head shift.

“Aubrey, I need to hear you say yeah.”

“.....’kay.”

He takes her hand between his. They’re clammy and a little gross, but he sure as hell isn't about to let go, and instead wraps his fingers around hers. Her other hand keeps running through Kelly’s fur; every time she reaches up to scratch at her neck, Kelly licks her hand until it returns to his fur.

“What’s your name?”

“Aub–Aubrey. Little.”

“How old are you?”

“I–I–I’m–”

Duck squeezes her fingers gently. “How old are you, Aubrey?”

“Twen–” A hiccup. “Twenty-one.”

“Where are you?”

“My bed–my bedroom. In the–uh, in the Lodge.”

“Good, Aubrey, you’re doing real good. Can you gimme five things you can see?”

She’s still shuddering, and it takes her a moment too long to look up, but Duck watches her eyes flirt around her bedroom.

“A band poster. Um… my curtains. A–a pair of jeans on the floor. Fff–uh–fairy lights. You ‘n Kelly.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, guess we do count as somethin’, don’t we?. Now, can you gimme four things to touch?”

She doesn’t talk this time; instead, she lets her fingers drift across the mattress. The tank top she’s wearing. The fur behind Kelly’s ears. Duck’s forehead. She starts to dig her nails at her wrist, but Kelly paws gently at her hand, and Duck pulls it back between his own with a squeeze.

“You know the next bit, yeah? Three things you can hear?”

“You talkin’. The wind outside. Uh… I can’t hear… anything else.”

“That’s alright, Aubrey, you’re doin’ fine. Can you hear the clock in the hall?”

She cocks her head, looking towards the door. “No… wait, no, yeah. It’s there too.”

“What’s next on the list?”

Duck watches Aubrey take a deep breath through her nose. “My diffuser. Uh, eucalyptus stuff.” She lifts the collar of her tank top up to her nose and gives it a sniff. “And the detergent Dani uses. The lemon one.”

Before Duck can ask, Aubrey’s screwing up her nose. “My tongue is all dry and sticky. It doesn’t taste good.”

Duck chuckles. He gives her fingers another squeeze. “Still counts, Bree. You feelin’ better?”

She shrugs. “I guess so. Another nightmare?”

“Yep. Looked like a bad one.”

“Sorry I woke everyone up again.”

“Naw, nothin’ to apologize for. Y’know I was up already, anyways.”

“More poetry?”

“Maybe. Shaddup.”

Aubrey giggles quietly, swatting at Duck’s shoulder. He swats her right back. The two of them engage in a playful slap fight that nearly results in Duck rolling off the bed. Hearing Aubrey express joy melts some of the lingering worry around Duck’s heart. She’d been so closed off after Ned and saving Kepler and the funeral. Having Dani and Kelly around seem to be helping her recover a little more day by day.

Aubrey settles against her pillows, face flushed and breathing hard, but with a wide smile on her face.

“Thanks for helpin’, Duck,” she says. “I dunno what I’d do without you.”

“Hey, you got Dani, ain’tcha?”

“Yeah, but she’s away, and it’s hard to talk to someone who wasn’t… _there_. And… and _you_ were there. At the… you know. The Big Thing.”

A moment of silence, then: “You ever think about maybe talkin’ to someone about this, Aubrey?”

She keeps rubbing behind Kelly’s ears, not meeting Duck’s eyes. “About what?”

“You know what. The abominations, the fight with the Quell, restoring Sylvain, _Ned_.”

Aubrey flinches at the mention of his name. Kelly licks her hand.

“I’m fine, Duck. I have Kelly and Dani.”

“They’re a good start, but I was thinkin’ someone a bit more professional.” He holds up a hand before she can protest. “It don’t have to be a therapist or a doctor; hell, it could just be you sittin’ down with Mama every couple weeks. It’s gotta be hell keepin’ all that bottled up all the time. Especially since none of that was your fault.”

Aubrey sighs, closing her eyes briefly, and Duck realizes just how tired she looks. He reaches over and lays a hand on her blanket-covered knee. “Hey, listen, we don’t gotta talk about this right now. Whenever you’re ready. I just want you to know I think it’d be a good idea, ‘s all.”

Aubrey’s quiet for a long moment, staring at her blanket. Then she raises her head and gives Duck a weary smile.

“I’ll think about it.”

Duck smiles right back. “Now there’s the Aubrey I know.”

She pushes herself to her knees and, to Duck’s surprise, throws her arms around his neck. He’s thrown off his rhythm for a moment, but recovers quickly and brings his arms around her back in a tight hug.

“Thank you for caring, Duck,” she murmurs, and if that ain’t enough to form a heavy lump in his throat. He wonders how alone she must feel, having learned who was behind the death of her mother, having to repair an entire civilization whose power was once inside her, having been face to face with the end of the world. Aubrey sniffles, shuddering once with a weak sob, and Duck feels a couple hot tears drip onto his neck. He squeezes her just a mite tighter.

The wind blows through Aubrey’s open window, ruffling the curtains. And for the space between moments, it’s like they’re standing in the back room of the Cryptonomica with Ned again. The breeze carries the smell of Ned’s cologne, something spiced and oak-y he bragged about stealing from Leonardo diCaprio’s hotel room in his youth. But underneath that smells dusty, like the towering boxes in the Cryptonomica’s secret room, and like the shitty Bud Light beer Ned used to describe as tasting like _“piss dirt”_ , whatever that meant. They hear his laugh, deep and hearty, and in his mind’s eye Duck can picture Ned slapping him on the back after he’s told a terrible joke.

Duck and Aubrey close their eyes, feeling Ned wrap around them like a warm blanket. The smell dissipates when the next breeze blows, but that one moment with the three of them together again is more than enough.

Aubrey pulls out of Duck’s arms. Their eyes meet. Aubrey’s are shiny with unshed tears, her mouth parted in confusion.

“Was that–?”

“Did–?”

They speak at the same time, but their voices trail off. Neither of them are eager to break the illusion.

Aubrey yawns and the moment is broken. Duck chuckles, his hands dropping from her sides. The LED alarm clock reads two-forty-seven in the morning.

“Think you’re ready to head back to sleep?” he asks, watching her rub her eyes.

“Probably, yeah.” Her smile turns sly. “You gonna go finish your fancy-pants ballads to ye olde man of moths?”

Duck ignores her, scratching Kelly under his chin and trying not to smile. Aubrey barks out a laugh once, a triumphant sound, and he doubly ignores her shit-eating grin.

Aubrey leans back against her pillows, blankets tucked beneath her arms. Her hand rests on Kelly’s head, fingers carding through his fur. She gives him another smile; it’s small and tired, but it’s the realest one he’s seen from her all night.

“Night, Aubrey.”

“Night, Duckie.”

He swats her again and nimbly scoots out of reach of her retaliatory swipe. He grins triumphantly, closing the door on her laughter. As he heads back down the hall to his own room, Duck supposes he can add something else to the list of things he’s proud of: being there for his family whenever they need it most.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you 4ever to the friendzone discord for their support and goofs (even the s*ns p*rn, cursed as it may have been)  
> alternate titles for this fic include "stop it. get some help." (thank u aspen) and "therapy..... ahaha..... unless?" (thank u meg), both were very sexc and i will for sure use them for future fics <3
> 
> come follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/accio_belle)!!


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